


Falling Stars

by bluemermaid



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Death Eaters, First War with Voldemort, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 11:44:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3487061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluemermaid/pseuds/bluemermaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It seemed all the stars were falling now, and Reg hoped, fervently, that Peter wouldn't be next.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling Stars

"Bang, bang, bang!"

Regulus Black jumped and looked quickly over his shoulder, stuffing the locket into his robes as he did so. "Hide," he hissed, looking worriedly down at Kreacher. "Don't come out until I call for you." The house elf bowed and shuffled out of the room. 

The visitor knocked on the door a second time, louder and faster, more than could have seemed possible after the first rapid set of bangs. Regulus swore under his breath and walked quickly through the front hall, past the giant portrait of his mother, who smiled proudly down at her son as he passed. Reg pressed himself against the door and peered through the peephole. "Who's there?"

"It's P-Peter." Regulus huffed and opened the door, where Pettigrew stood, trembling. "I'm sorry to bother you."

"I told you not to come to my home," said Reg, though he stood aside so that Peter could enter. "If my parents were here, they would not be pleased."

Peter nodded, his eyes darting about nervously as he took a few tentative steps into the hall. "I had to come," he said, in a terrified whisper. "They're getting worse. I need your help."

"You've come to the wrong person," Regulus said quickly, shaking his head. "Why don't you ask my dashing brother to help you? I'm sure he's a much better candidate."

"He doesn't know what it's like!" Peter cried desperately, grasping Regulus's arm in a panic. "He would laugh at me, disown me!" He released Reg and looked down at the floor, his fear fading into sadness. "They all would."

"And so you came to me?" Regulus barked out a disbelieving laugh. "Just what did you think I could do?"

"Well, I…." Peter trailed off and looked around again, as though realizing where he was for the first time. He glanced at Regulus, but would not meet his eyes. "I just thought, maybe, you would understand."

"Understand?" Regulus shoved the left sleeve of his robe up his arm and thrust his Dark Mark in Peter's face. "I understand a lot, Pettigrew. But that certainly doesn't mean I disagree."

Peter's face crumpled, and he moaned pitifully. "I couldn't join you," he said softly, and his voice cracked. "I just can't. I'm not like you, and still they torment me! How much longer can I bear it?"

"I don't know," Regulus replied, trying to sound as though he didn't care. "Until they kill you, I suppose."

Peter jerked visibly and made an odd squeaking noise. "They would kill me! That's just why I've come, Reg; you've got to stop them!"

"How can I stop them?" Regulus threw his hands up in frustration. "I'm still just a child, Peter; I can't do anything. I don't even mean anything to these people. I'm just a number, another mindless recruit. Just a body to follow orders, to sacrifice!" He stopped, out of breath, his palms sweaty; he had said too much. He thought of Kreacher, hiding in the kitchen, and his chest hurt.

Peter was whimpering, wringing his hands. "I don't know how much longer I can last, Reg. They know where I live; they're threatening to tell the others." By "the others" he clearly meant Them, those ridiculous Gryffindor clowns he called friends. He meant Sirius.

"So, let them. If they are truly your friends, they'll know your alignment." Regulus turned away and surveyed the parlour; should he leave a letter, for his parents? Nothing for Sirius, of course; he'd probably be pleased by the news. He was Peter's friend now, not Regulus's; he wouldn't know his own brother's alignment.

Peter cried out and grabbed Regulus by the arm. Reg turned quickly, to shake Pettigrew off, and saw with some shock that Peter was crying. Just starting, the tears barely visible, yet still there, glittering like diamonds in Peter's dark eyes. "I don't know," he said, pathetically. "I don't know if they'll know."

Regulus wanted to back away, wanted to kick this man out of his home, and yet he felt powerless to resist as he watched Peter's tears, his terror. "How couldn't they? Surely they know you're too cowardly to join us." He meant to sound harsh, but his voice shook.

"But, that's just it," said Peter, weakly. "I am a coward, I am! None of them really like me; they only let me tag along. I've always seen it, the way they look at me. Nobody's ever really seen me, you know. Not even you."

Regulus quickly grabbed Peter by the shoulders and stared hard into his eyes. "That is not true," he said angrily. "I've always looked at you."

"Then why did you leave?" The tears fell, finally, miniature twin rivers down Peter's cheeks.

"Because I had to, don't you see? I was raised for this, to join them." Regulus swept an arm across the room, which was elaborately decorated in Dark and Slytherin Artifacts. "I had to leave, to save you from them."

"Then save me now!" Peter cried, tugging desperately at Regulus's robes. "Tell them, Reg; tell them to leave me alone!"

Regulus shoved Peter against the wall. It was a mistake, a spur of the moment impulse, something born of frustration and confusion. Peter landed with a soft thump, with Regulus pulled flush against him. The two young men froze, their breaths catching, and Regulus placed his hands on either side of Peter's head. "I don't think they would listen," he said carefully, his eyes unable to leave Peter's.

"Try," Peter whispered, choking on his tears. They coated his eyes now, a shimmering, nearly invisible layer of sorrow. "Try, for me."

Regulus didn't know what to say. If Peter had come to him a week earlier, Regulus might have laughed and marched little Pettigrew out the door. But now, after what had happened, what would happen…. Memories flashed through Reg's mind, he and Peter against another wall, the two of them slinking through the dark corridors of Hogwarts with their fingers intertwined. It had been a game at first for Reg, a way of getting back at Sirius, but soon, it was different. Maybe the others did hate Peter Pettigrew, did avoid his gaze. But Regulus hadn't lied before; he saw. What did it matter now if he couldn't really help him? Everything was useless now, anyway. And so he decided.

"All right," he said, closing his eyes briefly. "I'll talk to them." When he opened his eyes, he saw Peter's teary smile, and it clenched his heart in a cold fist.

"Thank you," Peter breathed, and Regulus felt him, his soft warmth pressed against him, against the wall of his own home. "I never stopped, you know. Hoping." His eyes shone with fresh tears.

He probably would have said that it didn't mean he still cared. In all honesty, Regulus did not know if he still cared. But, after all, it was meaningless now, and it was only right, all things considered, to let the boy have his fantasies. And so Reg kissed him, closing the short distance before Peter could react, pressing his mouth to the other boy's with as much passion as he could muster in his muddled state. But Peter did react, immediately, grasping Regulus's robes again and uttering a stifled moan. Regulus kissed him, and Peter kissed back, and for a moment it was the darkness of a Hogwarts corridor all over again. But it didn't last very long, the moment, and Regulus pulled away feeling rather more miserable than he ever had before.

"You should go," he said, stepping backwards, keeping his eyes on Peter as he gestured towards the hall. "My family will be returning shortly."

"Oh." Peter slid slightly down the wall, then seemed to compose himself and straightened. He half-heartedly wiped at the tears on his face, his body once again beginning to tremble. "You meant it, though, when you said you would tell them?"

"Of course," said Reg, managing a smile, and he squeezed Peter's shoulder. "Just lie low for a few days, and stay strong. Stay with my brother, if you must; I hear he has a nice place now."

"You might come by," Peter said, though they both knew he couldn’t. "He might see you."

Regulus desperately wanted to, to see his brother one last time, and his smile widened. "Maybe." He knew he wouldn't.

Peter nodded, shuffled his feet, and glanced away before fixing Reg with a soulful stare. "I'll see you, then, soon?"

"Soon." Regulus guided Peter back down the hall and to the door, which opened into the coolness of a summer evening. "Stay brave, Pettigrew. Stay Gryffindor." He offered a wry grin.

Peter laughed nervously. "I'll try. But please talk to them soon, Reg. I'm afraid."

"Don't be afraid," Regulus said firmly, and he took Peter's hand briefly, squeezing his fingers. "Don't be afraid."

Peter nodded again, and stepped outside. "Goodbye, for now."

"Goodbye," said Regulus, and he reluctantly shut the door.

He sat in the drawing room for a while after that, staring at the family tapestry. Sirius had already been burned off, as had their cousin Andromeda. Regulus wondered if his name would be blasted, too, after. Maybe, if he left a note. Maybe he wouldn't tell anybody; maybe he would just slip away and never come back. They were stars, all of them; Reg remembered going through the books with Sirius as a child, tracing the constellations which bore their names. He traced these patterns now, the thin golden lines connecting their places on the map of their blood. The place where Sirius had been was dark and empty now, a black hole in the universe. He was still out there, somewhere, and yet it felt like he was dead; he had fallen from the Black Family sky. And now it was Regulus's turn to fall, to tumble from his home, his safety, his comfort. He was falling, just like all the other fools who had fought and failed the Dark Lord. It seemed all the stars were falling now, and Reg hoped, fervently, that Peter wouldn't be next. "Stay strong," he said softly, echoing his words from before, fingering the locket in his robes, and then he stood, reluctantly, and set off to give Kreacher his last set of orders.


End file.
